This is Bloody Improbable: The Ballad
by AlienZombies
Summary: Or Something to That Effect. Arthur wonders why Ford took him with him when the Earth was destroyed. Ford/Arthur


**This is Bloody Improbable, the Ballad: or Something to That Effect**

"Hey, Ford?"

Arthur didn't particularly anticipate an answer. This was partially because Arthur had spoken through a mouthful of exceptionally disgusting pound cake that had been a gift from Eddie for Arthur cleaning a stain on the kitchen floor, though Eddie truly had no idea what pound cake was and had had an incredibly difficult time researching it, the product being of course a dry, chewy, painfully sweet gummy substance that tasted almost, but not entirely, unlike actual pound cake. The second reason that Arthur didn't expect an answer was because Ford was presently asleep.

Arthur forced himself to swallow (which turned out to be a very unpleasant experience overall) and tried again. "Ford."

Ford was probably awake by now, to be perfectly honest, but he had discovered that, three times out of five, if he pretended to still be asleep the person annoying him would leave. That was because three times out of five it was Trillian bothering him and she didn't really care much about anything that required the extra effort it took to get Ford to pay attention – at least, unless it involved her mice, which were inexplicably and improbably missing at the time.

Arthur, however, was not Trillian and was, in fact, for the most part, male. And though at most times he was more or less polite, he did have a typical male tendency to be a complete brute. Which explained why now he was kicking the couch Ford was sleeping on in order to wake him up.

"Get up, you lazy arse, I know you're awake."

Ford was less than pleased with this interruption of his sleep cycle, and informed Arthur as such.

"I find myself having a hard time caring," was Arthur's terse response.

"Well, bloody fantastic for you." Ford sat up and slung his towel around his neck. He had previously been using it as a pillow. "So now that you've got my attention, what do you want?"

At this, Arthur balked. Truly, he hadn't considered this course of action. He had woken Ford on more of a whim – because, well, there wasn't much else to do. "Er," he said.

Ford was unimpressed. "I see."

"Well, rather, er…"

Something remarkable was happening to Arthur's face. Ford didn't recognize the symptom, but from what he could see all of the Earthman's red blood cells were flocking to his face, which was a concerning illness indeed, because it could rather cause his face to explode, which would extremely unfortunate, or it could cause his toes to rot off from lack of oxygen, which would be just a little bit unfortunate.

"Are you all right?" Ford asked, hoping he could get an answer before Arthur's head began to swell. He was quite unfamiliar with the concept of blushing.

Arthur, despite the issue of his redness, appeared to have a look of puzzlement about him, but that wasn't terribly remarkable. Arthur usually had a look of puzzlement about him anyway.

"I'm quite fine, actually."

"Not feeling hot, or stuffy, or anything?"

"Not particularly, though thank you for your concern." The color was starting to go down.

Ford felt his alarm settle into a quiet suspicion. Humans were a strange species. "Your face seemed to be turning red, was all."

"Oh, well. That happens." Then, Arthur added suddenly, "Ford."

"Yeah."

"I was just thinking about Earth."

"Oh, yes? I was just thinking about going to back to sleep, or maybe having a drink."

"Well, I was feeling sort of homesick."

"Unfortunate."

"It made me wonder, though."

"What about?" No offense to Arthur's character, but Ford had never quite pinned him as a wonderer.

"Why did you rescue me?"

"Oh." Ford thought about it. He probed about inside of himself a little, discovered that he had to go to the bathroom. "Well, Arthur, because you're my friend."

It sounded like a safe enough answer.

Arthur's eyes went wide. "Yeah, that's what I figured. But you had other friends."

Now Ford's eyes went wide, too, only the effect was much more unsettling because of his subtly alien features. In fact, he looked very much like a fish. In the process of being fish-like, Ford figured not answering would be the best course of action in response to Arthur's questions. He was wrong.

"Why didn't you take them with you, too?" Arthur pressed. "You didn't seem to much care that Amelia and Bart and Fred were all going to burn to bits."

"Well," said Ford uneasily, tugging at his collar, "I suppose I didn't, much."

"Why not? Why me?"

"Arthur." Ford tried to sound cool, and mostly he succeeded – because he was good at that sort of thing, but likewise Arthur was good at seeing through his façades by now. "You lived closer to me. I figured if I was going to safe a friend, I might as well conserve as much energy as possible."

To anyone else, this would have made perfect sense, but Arthur had a tendency to be very daft.

"That's not the truth."

"What? Sure it is."

"No, it isn't." Arthur huffed and ran a distracted hand through his hair. "It's been bothering me. I feel incredibly lucky."

"Perhaps not lucky, but highly improbable," Ford offered unhelpfully.

"Of all the billions of people on the whole bloody planet, I just happen to be the one scooped up by the hitchhiker Ford Prefect."

"Ah, and aren't you insanely flattered?"

"A bit." Arthur smiled a little smile, and then erased it from his features (which was a rather spectacular move that startled Ford the slightest bit). "But that's not the point," Arthur wheedled. "Why me?"

"I told you, you were closest."

Arthur was bristling with frustration. He needed some tea.

"All right," said Ford suddenly. "It's because you were my favorite."

This was such a huge switch that Arthur failed to believe him – which was precisely Ford's plan. "Oh, yeah, sure I was," Arthur said with such oozing sarcasm that even Ford couldn't miss it – and it wounded him a bit.

"I was never as exciting as Amelia," Arthur continued, sulking with such skill that he attracted a sliver of Marvin's admiring attention. Marvin was presently having some extreme trouble with Eddie, who was apparently trying to counsel him.

"Sure you were. You were more interesting, anyway. I thought." Ford stumbled over himself a little bit.

"And Bart was always better-looking."

"I didn't think so."

"And Fred was always so fond of you."

"I wasn't terribly fond of Fred. Our names were too similar. Fred and Ford sounds strange."

"It does," Arthur agreed solemnly. "Arthur and Ford sounds much better."

"It does," Ford said with such feeling that Arthur was worried for a moment.

"So, you picked me because you liked me best?"

"In so many words." Ford made a show of being aloof.

"There's a small problem with that, though, Ford."

Ford feigned disinterest, though he felt a little hurt. He couldn't go on having plans like this if Arthur kept going on finding things wrong with them. "What problem would that be?"

"You're a bloody hitchhiker."

"Er."

"Right?"

"Yes, right. And?"

"You've been all over the place."

"Of course."

"I'm the only friend you've ever brought along with you."

"Well, I'm not usually in any old place long enough to _make_ friends, you see. Fifteen years is a long time to get to know people, when you're stranded." Ford was proud of this explanation, and fixed a smile that was a bit too wide for him to keep from blinking while doing it. He looked something like a shark, though he had never met one in person. He would have been surprised if he had – sharks are (or rather were) quite friendly creatures and made excellent hosts at parties, when they weren't hungry.

"What about Zaphod?"

"What? You think I could ever bother watching Zaphod? You think I'm hard to keep track of!" The very idea! Ford shuddered at the thought. Trying to drag Zaphod around, _really_.

"Didn't you ever have any other friends?"

"Goodness, Arthur, you're starting to make me feel inadequate," Ford mumbled, twisting a ginger curl around his finger.

"It just doesn't make any sense."

"Arthur, the universe doesn't make any sense." Ford gave him a pointed look.

At this point Arthur had rather given up. "You haven't got much feeling at all, have you?"

Ford frowned. "Course I do."

"You just go around dragging me everywhere. Would you miss me, if I left?"

Ford didn't say anything. He blinked once for the first time in a full minute. He clicked his teeth.

Arthur stared at the ceiling for a bit. It was a very attractive ceiling. "Sometimes," Arthur said abruptly, "I hate it when I catch you sleeping around."

"I don't sleep around."

"Whenever we land, you get at it quite a bit."

Ford tried and failed to understand what the importance of any of this was. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Why is that?"

"Because I like it. And it's not like I get many chances, you know, on this ship."

"Sure you have."

Ford twisted the corner of his towel (which offended the towel greatly and made it shy of Ford for the rest of the day). "Yeah, well, I guess there _is_ Zaphod, but I don't particularly enjoy the entire incest thing, though from what I've gathered you humans get quite a kick out of it –"

"I'm not talking about Zaphod." Arthur had such a tone of cool anger that it made Ford uncomfortable. He began looking for a mode of escape.

"If you mean Trillian, I'm afraid I'm not attracted to her. Sorry, I know you like her, but you've always had some strange tastes, mate, if I can say so."

"No." Arthur gripped the back of the couch fiercely.

"If I could ever catch the mice, I'm fairly sure that the activity would kill them," Ford continued. "Aside from that, I've learned from experience that fur isn't really my taste. And Marvin would never let me, and I imagine sex with him would be a miserable and depressing experience."

"Don't doubt it," Marvin drawled, turning his red gaze upon Ford. Eddie made a noise that might have been mortification, or indigestion – if robots can get indigestion.

"Also, it could be rather painful," Ford added thoughtfully. "I've never tried it with solid metal, though it certainly isn't soft."

"I rather want to hit you across the face right now," said Arthur.

To Ford, this made perfect sense. "Most people do." He paused for a few seconds before he said with a note of inspiration, "There _is_ always myself, of course, but I know myself far too well –"

"Ford."

"Yes, precisely, it would be quite awkward, I mean –"

"You're forgetting something."

"You know, I picked you because you're a good friend. And, you were closest."

Arthur gave up. "Yeah. Okay."

"And if I ever slept with you," Ford added without quite looking at his friend, "I don't think I'd ever recover."

Arthur sputtered. "_You_ would never recover! I don't even know what you, I mean…"

"Oh, well, it's just like yours, I'd imagine. I've never stopped to compare them, you know."

"So you haven't got any tentacles?" Arthur couldn't help but be curious.

"Not presently."

"_Really_."

"I did once, but I had them removed. Unseemly things. They kept trying to feel everyone else up while I wasn't looking. Couldn't have that. Goodness how many people it invaded while I wasn't looking… The little minx. Yes, couldn't have it."

Arthur was very aware of the inappropriateness of this conversation, but Ford seemed to be engrossed by it, and Marvin had taken a subtle interest (while, of course, maintaining that the entire thing was a completely pointless, totally improbable happening that was entirely insignificant on the whole of things in the universe to be watching). Eddie was so flustered he began to busy himself with something else, making tons and tons of tea and pound cake.

Arthur tried and failed to steer the conversation away from genitals, but it did little good. At some point, Trillian passed by – and continued to pass by at a quickened pace, her face turning a darker shade of brown (which Ford noted, and planned on checking up on, this human blushing thing).

"So, Arthur," Ford said loudly, which startled Arthur, who had been trying desperately to tune his friend out, "what do you think about it?"

"Beg pardon?"

"You're up for learning new things. How say you that we give it a shot?"

"You are terribly casual."

"Er, yes." A pause. "What? It's not as if I've got tentacles."

Arthur felt himself beginning to smile, couldn't restrain it. "I quite like you, Ford."

Ford tilted his head slightly. "I know."

Arthur tapped his chin thoughtfully. For the life of him, he couldn't stop his grinning. "Yeah, all right, I'll give it a shot."

"Right here, then?"

"Yeah, why not."

Marvin got up and shuffled out of the room.

In his opinion, the whole thing was far too improbable for him to stand. Little did he know that Eddie had come up with quite the opposite conclusion – the chances, he determined, were forty-two to one against.

He kept this precious information quite to himself, and Ford and Arthur never were the wiser.

-- **THE END**

Well, quite possibly.

Then again, it might not be.

The universe is like that.

**Notes**: Okay so, this is my first Hitchhiker fanfiction. I've just recently discovered it. Probably one of the best books ever. Unfortunately, other than here, I have no idea where to begin looking for more fan works. Feel free to PM me with suggestions.

Oh, yeah, and comments are pretty cool, too.


End file.
